


Long live the Kingslayer

by Technomystic



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Robert's Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7748326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Technomystic/pseuds/Technomystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Eddard Stark reached the throne room of the Red Keep during Roberts Rebellion he found Jamie sitting on it resting, Jamie willingly offered the throne to Eddard because he didn’t care who would become the next king, but what if he did? What if Jamie thought about who should be the next king and realised there was only one person who truly deserved it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long live the Kingslayer

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is the first fanfiction I have ever written, it’s an experiment. I made this story up as I went with no overarching plan, so please forgive any inconsistencies in the lore or characters. Most importantly of all though, enjoy this ‘what if’ story about the kingslayer.  
> I also want to say that at the moment this is a one-shot, but if I get the inspiration to explore how Jamie secures his new throne and rules the Seven Kingdoms then this will be merely the first chapter in a greater story.

Jamie stepped over the decrepit corpse of his king, the blood from the fresh wound across the throat of Aerys Targaryen the Mad King’s body spilled onto the floor soiling the end of his white cloak as it dragged behind him. Jamie ripped the cloak from his back, he wasn’t going to need it anymore; he was a traitor now, an oath breaker, a kingslayer, he had betrayed his king and his oath to the Kingsguard and had murdered the very man he had sworn to protect to his dying day. Not that Jamie cared, the Mad King was called the Mad king for a reason, he would have ignited the city if Jamie hadn’t stopped him and his pyromancer. Besides going by the tales of the old Targaryen’s had Aerys really managed to burn down the city he may very well have emerged from the flames a dragon and the last thing the seven kingdoms needed right now was for the dragons to return.  
  
Continuing his march through the sticky dark red blood of the king, Jamie made his way towards the Iron Throne. He climbed its stairs and reaching the top realised for the first time how much of a god the man who sits upon it must feel like. Well he was a god in battle, a demon with the sword, perhaps he should take his rightful place on this throne made for the divine. Jamie took his place on the iron throne, its thousand swords clawing at his armour as if the throne itself wanted to avenge its king. He looked down at the blood stained steps bellow, at the lifeless form of the man he had served and the sword he had used to open his throat from ear to ear in one swift motion. ‘This was my finest act’ Jamie thought to himself ‘and they will call me a kingslayer for it, they will hate me and condemn me and kill me, and I saved them.’ He wondered if once they were done with him, when what remained of the Targaryen Loyalists put his head on a pike atop the red keep to overlook the capital, would they melt down his sword and add it to the other thousand swords of the iron throne.  
  
The Kingslayer placed his sword across his knees and waited. He did not fear death ‘we’re all just meat and bone held together by a bit of skin and waiting to die anyway’ at least he would get to die on a throne, that was more than most men got or most kings for that matter. His thought turned to Cersei as they usually did, her green eyes, her gold hair, he only wished he could leave this world in the arms of the woman he entered it with.  
  
Jamie herd the groan of the great hinges of the door at the entrance of the throne room. So it was time ‘Death is not so bad, there are no oaths to fill in death.’ He sat up proud, ready to die at the hands of vengeful Targaryen men, but it was not Targaryen’s who entered the throne room. Instead Roland Crakehall and Elys Westerling barged in with a company of their men, swords drawn and ready to taste blood. Their faces quickly turned to shock and horror.  
  
“My lords I fear I must inform you that I must deny you the fight you look so eager for, it seems I have already slain your foe” Jamie said in a calm collected manner with a smirk and pointed to the Dead king Aerys with a golden gauntlet hand.  
  
“My lord Lannister we uh… we uh… did…” Westerling stammered.  
  
Jamie looked down at the men below him, they may be in shock but their swords were still poised ‘they don’t know whether to attack me or bow down to me, they still wonder if my duties as a kingsgaurd requires me to die in one final moment of glory trying to valiantly protect the body of my king.’  
  
“Fear not my lords this is a day of victory for the lion, the dragon lies dead beneath his heal.”  
  
That seemed to satisfy Lord Crakehall, “Sheath your swords men” he commanded and they did so without delay. That seemed to calm the men a little, none of them wanted to fight Jamie Lannister the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. Besides even if by the will of the gods they actually managed to survive their fight with him there would be no mercy from Tywin Lannister if they killed his favourite son. That was if Tywin still lived. Aerys had demanded that Jamie bring him his lord fathers head, Jamie may have hated his father like every other one of his children but he was still his father’s son and he could not bring himself to harm him.  
  
Although Jamie may never have been able to kill his father that doesn’t mean some fanatic Gold Cloak hadn’t tried. For the first time in his life Jamie felt fear not of his father but for him. Tywin Lannister may have been a monster, but he was a monster who wanted very much to see Jamie and more importantly Cersei survive this war.  
  
“Crakehall what can you tell me of my father?” Jamie asked.  
  
“He is safe my Lord, he is commanding the reserve force and awaits outside the city,” ‘of course he was safe and commanding the reserve,’ had Jamie really needed to ask. Tywin Lannister always commanded the reserve force waiting for just the right moment to deploy his men to turn the tide of battle. “Gregor Clegane commands the vanguard and is currently sacking the city, teaching people what it means to stand against the Lannister’s.” ‘Yes I’m sure the men of kings Landing will be learning so much about the Lannister’s as they watch their homes burn, and woman will come to new understandings as they are being raped by soldiers in crimson armour and lion half helms’ Jamie thought to himself.  
  
“Crakehall, Westerling, send messengers across the city, tell everyone that the king is dead, they have nothing left to fight for, tell them to surrender and if they do you will show them full quarter, is the understood,”  
  
“Yes my Lord,” Crakehall and Westerling replied in unison.  
  
“If I hear any reports of surrendered men being executed I will have both your heads.” Jamie warned them. Crakehall merely bowed and turned to give the orders to his men, Westerling on the other hand had genuine terror in his eyes and hesitated for a long time before doing anything.  
  
Crakehall turned back towards Jamie and cautiously walked towards the Iron throne as if he were approaching a wounded predator. “My Lord there is a delicate matter we must discuss,” Crakehall said in a tone that was barely above a whisper.  
  
“And what would that be,” Jamie replied in a monotone voice.  
  
“The matter of succession my lord,”  
  
“What of it,”  
  
“Well my lord we have a unique opportunity, sitting upon the Iron Throne my Lord you could proclaim a new king and the people of the Seven Kingdoms would listen to you.”  
  
“And who would you suggest should be king Crakehall” Jamie said in an annoyed tone, he had never cared much for politics but Crakehall was right, he had to do something or the city and the Realm may very well fall into chaos, and then what would it have mattered that he had just saved the entirety of Kings Landing.  
  
“Well my Lord there are a few Targaryen children who would have a claim to the throne.”  
  
Jamie considered the thought of another Targaryen on the throne. Rhaegar had a son Aegon who was young but had a direct claim to the throne and could easily be moulded to fit the whims of Tywin Lannister. Perhaps that would finally please his father, if Jamie gave Tywin a puppet king through which he could rule. Yet Aegon was the spawn of Rhaegar who had abandoned the needs of the Realm and started this war by abducting Lyanna Stark without giving a thought to the consequences. Even worse was that Rhaegar himself was the spawn of the Mad King, the shit who was responsible for all the hatred that was now being unleashed across the city by the Westerling men who rampaged and pillaged and raped their way from one side of the capital to the other. The Mad Kings insanity had cost countless lives and his decedents may very well have the same madness, most of the Targaryen Kings had either been brilliant or insane.  
  
Neither could Rhaegar's brother Viserys take the throne, if Tywin allowed Aegon to live he would have to spend his life bowing to a king who sat on a throne that was his by right. There would be another civil war, last time two brothers had both claimed the same throne it had led to the five Blackfyre rebellions and before that the dance of dragons had started when both Aegon the second and his sister Rhaenyra had both claimed to be the rightful heir of their father and had left Westeros on the brink of collapse and a new king who only inherited the throne because every other claimant was too dead to care.  
  
No it could not be another Dragon. Dragon’s had come to Westeros three hundred years ago and set the Seven Kingdoms ablaze and under their rule that fire had never stopped only continued to chase the enemies of the Targaryen’s across Westeros. Whether those enemies were desperate commoners, chivalrous nobles or even vengeful gods it did not matter. So long as there was an enemy to fight the people of the Seven Kingdoms remained too divided and too distracted to realise that they had the power to reforge their kingdoms if they just had the will to martial their forces and stand against the Targaryen’s. Now the last Dragon King lay dead at his feet, his life blood drained on the steps to the iron throne.  
  
“No, a Targaryen shall never again sit upon this throne,” Jamie commanded.  
  
Jamie could tell that Crakehall was trying and failing to hide a small smile “As you say my Lord, perhaps someone like your father would be more suitable.”  
  
Imagine Tywin Lannister on the Iron Throne of Westeros, Jamie could not conjure such an image in his mind, his father was terrifying and his authority was absolute but he did not look like a King, he had served one too long for that. To be truthful Tywin Lannister had ruled the Seven Kingdoms for twenty years, even if he had only held the title of Hand of the King, Twin had been the real power in the capital. Saying as much was what got Illyn Pain’s tong ripped out, not that that made it any less true.  
  
‘No it can’t be Tywin, he has already had his time to rule’. Even worse though was that Tywin would be given the glory for this victory even though Jamie had been the one who had Killed the Mad King, Jamie would only be remembered as oath breaker and Kingslayer. No he would not allow Tywin to also take the glory of Kingship as well.  
  
“No, it shall not be my father,” Crakehall seemed shocked, even more so than when he had seen the dead king. No, It was more than just shock it was fear, ‘So that was my father’s game all along,’ Jamie realised. ‘He predicted that I would kill the king and sent Crakehall to convince me to declare him the new King, and my father wouldn’t have to exercise his power through a puppet, people would be forced to show him the respect he so desperately craved.’  
  
Jamie’s thoughts once again turned to Cersei. Perhaps there was a way he could get everything he ever wished, a way to get the glory, give Cersei all she had ever wished, be with his love and spite his father one last time.  
  
“Crakehall I want you to send out more messengers to spread news across the city”  
  
“What message would you have me send out my Lord” Crakehall replied hesitantly.  
  
“Tell the city that I Jamie Lannister, new King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm command all men to lay down their arms and to do what they can to restore order to the city, and tell all knights and Lords to report to the Red Keep to swear fealty to me.”  
  
Crakehall stood petrified in his place, so too did the men around him. “The King is dead,” Jaime said to them “Long live the King.”


End file.
